The Dark
by saddlecreeperz
Summary: The Night Stalker was known as Joe, an unstable mercenary, everything else a mystery. The only one to know his secret was the orphaned girl who had been his friend, and ally. Gillian McCarthy, the Lady Maverick. MAYBE M IN THE FUTURE, IDK.


Joe was never his first name. Not even an abbreviation of it. Closing his eyes, he remembered how his foot had pinned the templar's leg to the ground. How his poor victim had wailed and begged. If this was how a Templar reacted when confronted by death himself, they really were a bunch of cowards.

Peter was the templar's name. "Joe" didn't care how pitiful Peter's face, which was contorted into one full of fear and agony, was covered with cuts and bruises. He had taken a few minutes to tease the bastard with his hook before deciding to end their little game. He had left two nasty slashes along Peter's chest, where deep red lines formed. Peter lifted one hand to do whatever he could which would stop him from bleeding out.

However, "Joe" knew he'd die anyway, and the most he could do was to end the poor fellow's suffering. Slowly, he placed the hook at one side of Peter's neck, whose breathing quickened. With his final breath, he cried out one name. Joe.

Joe was of course, not the killer, but the one who had accompanied Peter. As Peter lay dead on the pavement, Joe appeared. The nightstalker swiftly dispatched him with a hidden blade, before moving to higher ground. More Templars were sure to come.

"So, you're the nightstalker," Someone mused. Joe snapped out of his trance, turning to face the one who'd interrupted the peace.

_She _wore a deep green dress, accented by her red hair, which was curly and glistening with rainwater. He was, in fact, going to ignore her and leave, until he noticed the unmistakable red emblem of the Templars stitched onto the side of her dress.

He grabbed his hook, ready to lunge at her before she stopped him.

"You aren't going to kill someone unarmed, now are you, dear?" She remarked, smirking at him.

He knew it wouldn't be right to kill her while she was without a blade. It would be too easy, of no honour. Yet he had no spare weapon to offer to her.

"What do you want?" He finally managed, putting his hook back in its place. However, he would be ready to stab her with his hidden blade if necessary.

"Nothing. I just happened to hear how you've come to pay us a visit here in New York. I thought I'd drop by," She whispered seductively. She circled him, tracing his collarbone with one finger.

And then he heard it, the sound of a hidden blade moving into position. He rolled forward, managing to avoid her blade. He reached for his hook, only to find it missing. Horrified, he looked up. The woman had it in her hand, waving it. She was tempting him, daring him to retrieve it.

He clicked his hidden blade into position, lunging at her. He aimed for her neck, bare and unconcealed. It would be easy for one to harm her.

This was what she expected. One to think of her as an easy target. She sidestepped him with ease. She caught his arm, piercing it with her blade. He grunted, not allowing her to revel in his plight.

"Shame. I expected your reaction to be more entertaining," She sighed, releasing him, knocking him to the pavement below them. She landed next to him, pinning him to the ground, with a knife to his neck.

"Well, Joe. That wasn't so hard, wasn't it?" She chuckled.

He looked up to face her. Her expression was cold, yet she watched her prey mockingly, as he squirmed under her grasp.

"Gillian," He spat.

"I'm touched you know my name. But I can't hear your pleas clearly enough under that ugly cloth," She mused. She would unmask the Night Stalker. Triumphantly, she brought the cloth down to his neck and gasped.

No, his face was not horribly disfigured. It was perfect, in fact.

But there was an ugly cut down his cheek. The marks were unmistakable.

She could remember Fillian cowering in a dusty corner of the warehouse. She remembered holding the very knife she had now in a battle stance. He stood across her, in rags as well. Except he held a broken shard from a mirror they had broken in their previous brawl.

"You betrayed us!" She hissed, charging at him. He ducked, grabbing her. He had the shard to her neck.

"Gillian, I do not want to kill you. Please, calm down," He reasoned. She kicked him back, simply raising the knife and bringing it back down once more. When she opened her eyes, he was clutching the side of his face, crying in pain.

"Lucian," She sobbed. She had never intended to do that. Only when he was running had she realised how she never wished to harm him, but to scare him off.

Then she saw them differently. She saw them sitting together atop a roof, linking arms and taking a bite of the bread they'd stolen.

"Lu- Lucian, it's you," She gasped, remaining above him. He took this as a chance to escape. He kicked her back, and she landed with a thud. HE noticed how his hook was lying on the pavement. Happily, he reached down to retrieve it with his one good arm. The other remained limp, though the rain drops that fell stung it.

He pulled his cloth back up over his nose, turning to face her. He expected her to move. To make a smart remark at least, but she only watched him in fright.

She had tricked him earlier. He wasn't going to allow that again. He lunged forward, before a gunshot left him sprawled across the ground. Stunned, but not injured.

Gillian was still in a state of shock. But the Night Stalker had noticed the redcoats that surrounded them.

"Gil! Get up!" He shouted, but she remained.

"Damnit, Gillian!" He muttered, raising his hook to fend off the attackers.

**A/N:  
THIS was meant to be a one-shot, but I guess it deserves to be turned into a series. I made the glorious discovery of this lovely ship though tumblr with a lovely doodle picture.**

Thanks to my friend Djulian, who doesn't have an account, for doing some dialogues and part of the flashbacks. 


End file.
